Author's Note: I'm learning how much I love a cliffhanger, which you totally probably couldn't tell. Also, thank u for all for the comments and support, I'm so stoked to hit 5k reads!!! Thank u all :)) I think this chapter (and the next ;) ) is a good celebration <3
"You're kidding."
You stared down in hilarity and shock, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you felt your nerves wash past you.
Standing there, on your parents' lawn, with a fistful of pebbles and an apologetically devilish grin, was none other than the object of your every perilous thought.
Eddie squinted up at you, peering through the low lamp-light of your room as it shone through the midnight darkness.
"Yeah, I mean, I wanted to pull the whole boom-box-on-the-shoulder deal, but it is pretty late." He shouted the words breathily, keeping his tone hushed as he gestured vaguely around him. "Also, my boombox is totally busted."
You tried to push the thought of the notepad out of your mind– what you'd written, what you knew he'd seen– but it proved fruitless when you saw a sheet of paper peeking out of his jacket pocket.
He cleared his throat, pulling you out of the brief trance of worry.
"So can we, um, can we talk?" He had a hand to the back of his neck, shuffling his feet as he looked up at your silhouette, backlit by the light of your bedroom.
You angled your body down and out past the window, peering over the edge to ensure the drainpipe over the flowerbed was still intact.
It seemed good as new, and you waved him over with a finger pressed to your lips, beckoning the boy to be as silent as possible as he shimmied up.
Graceful was not a word you'd use to refer to the sight.
You bit back a laugh as his hand finally grasped the paneling of your windowsill, turning away briefly to suppress the amusement resulting from his begrudged glare.
You turned back, instinctively reaching out for his hands as he hoisted himself up onto the ledge, allowing you to guide him through the window and land on your floor.
Luckily, he didn't crash into anything.
The only noise was the touch of his boots on the ground, his chain singing lightly at his hip from the motion.
You kept yourself from glancing down at it, which required more effort than you'd have thought it would.
Finally, situated and standing before you, Eddie sighed.
The action was hard to read; not frustration– not entirely– and not annoyance, either.
You pursed your lips and took a breath, trying not to let the dread crashing over you in waves leak out through the expression on your face.
Your eyes caught once more on the notepad sticking out from his pocket.
He tracked your gaze, removing it and holding it gingerly in his hands, as if it were made of glass.
"I-"
"Please," he started, "let me go first."
He sifted the pages lightly, drumming them on his fingers before he spoke.
"I have to– I need to ask you. Do you hate me, (y/n)?"
It was the first time he'd ever called you by your first name.
His eyes bore into your own, his glaze pleading, face completely and uncharacteristically wiped of any snark or derision.
You held his stare, your own expression laced with the honesty of your solace.
"No."
Still, neither of you looked away.
"Do you hate me?" Please tell me that I haven't ruined it– whatever this is.
"I couldn't dream of it."
Your heart thundered in your chest.
He stepped closer.
You followed suit.
Only a few inches remained as the two of you stood there, breathing.
Your hand instinctively reached out once more, brushing cautiously against the cool metal on his knuckles.
He nudged your hand with his own, your pulse racing as he entwined his fingers with yours.
He dipped his head, angling toward you gingerly as you rose to match his height.
Before you could move any further, you heard a thud from down the hall.
You both froze, glancing quickly in tandem to your bedroom door.
You looked back at him frantically, moving to cross your floor and turn the small lock on your doorknob as quietly as possible.
Eddie toed over to the lamp by your dresser, looking to you for approval as his hand reached for the switch.
You nodded.
Cloaked in darkness, but familiar enough with your own bedroom to find him again, you made your way back over to the window where he'd returned.
"Care for a stroll?" he murmured into the darkness, reaching to brush against your arm.
You smiled.
"You read my mind, Munson."
YOU ARE READING
the guitarist | eddie munson x reader
Fanfiction"weird is a strong word, (y/l/n)" the older boy rolled his eyes flamboyantly, making a mockery of the rumors about him. you were starting to think they might be true. even so, you kept pace by his side as the two of you stumbled through the woods. "...
